


The Bad and the Good

by maryvelvet020 (orphan_account)



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: 707 Route Spoilers, Abusive Past, F/M, Game Spoilers, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Manga & Anime, Original Character(s), Otome - Freeform, POV 707 | Luciel Choi, Sad and Happy, Sad with a Happy Ending, Team Mystic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-02
Updated: 2016-11-02
Packaged: 2018-08-28 14:31:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8450008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/maryvelvet020
Summary: Both Seven and MC have suffered through a troubling time in their life, but they took it in different ways. However, this difference does not mean they cannot get the same happy ending.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note: Sensitive themes are mentioned that may be uncomfortable for some. Also, do not keep reading if you want a plot. There is none, since this is just a drabble. (〃ω〃)

"What happened?"

"You tell me."

 

* * *

 

You’re having another really bad day. Everything that happens tortures you to the point where you can longer stand it, but you still do. All the people in your class seem to have an endless supply of horridness. You manage to stay calm while the class is going on, but as soon as the bell rings, you dash past the she-devils and bastards and off into the streets.

You want to scream and cry and laugh manically and throw the thing closest to you and rip out all your hair and bang your head against something until your skull cracks and your skin tears until you see blood. But you can’t. You have to swallow your disgusting impulses, those thoughts that would lead to no benefit nor benediction. Really, you are sickened by yourself for stooping so low as to lose your head into silly fantasies of chaos. ~~Only those who are deluded by society’s frivolous logic so that they cannot practice patience with their circumstances demote themselves this way. They aren’t aware that losing yourself into your troubling mental inclinations and fantasies of self-mutilation is not something ‘cool’, rather degrading and foolish~~.

Not wanting to end up this way, you refrain from hurting yourself and those around you. You use the back alley to head home, the only place you can be alone, only wanting to curl up in your bed and put on annoying music deafeningly loud in your earbuds, alone in the dark, hoping that you die in the morning.

But it seems as if fate is against you today. Reclining against the wall like some mafia scum, you see the three deadliest cronies in school leveling you up like a piece of meat. You look frantically behind you for a way out of this hell you just landed in, only to see the path blocked by your once-friends. As their leader throws down his cigarette, you know, even when your whole being wants to deny and fight, that you’re not getting out of here until they’re done with you. You just want some force of nature to kill you now so you won’t have to endure this. ~~Again.~~

Only that you cannot die, and you cannot hope for it either. ~~Wishing for death is for losers who can’t handle a harsh thing or two.~~

Once you finally make it home about a million hours later, you ignore everything around you, even those who would not listen to the smallest thing you ask of them purely for the sake of irking you, and vent about how you’re feeling to yourself ~~because you’re pathetic and cannot stay still without wanting to grate your skin raw and red~~ to know how disgusting you are, how much you ramble, and how you really want to be patient ~~unlike those piteous souls who cut themselves in their despair.~~ Ignoring the bruises forming under your skin, you then you close your eyes along with your silent tears (wiping them away in repulsion) and lay in wait for sleep, hoping that the next day will be easier.

Except that you know that nothing will ever be easy, not until you are patient and not let little things lead you to insanity. ~~Honestly, what a waste of life~~. After all, ease follows hardship.

You want something, _anything_ , to distract you. You abandon any attempts for sleep and browse through some apps, knowing that playing a game will numb your mind. And so you download an app to make you feel better, hoping against hope that this silly endeavor will make you happier.

What you don’t know is that good things are just around the corner.

  

* * *

 

He’s having another really bad day. Everything that happened today was a hundred times worse than the last. His twin brother, the only sane person he thought he could depend on, is now pushed to the brink of insanity.

Really, even he himself can’t think straight. Their mother is screaming up a storm at his brother in the next room. He’s trying not to listen, but no matter how deep he plunges his fingers into his ears, he can still hear the agonized sobs and shrieks loud and clear. The sounds shudder down his chest and wraps around his spine, causing his skin to break out in goosebumps and his breathing to hasten like an Olympic runner. Horrible images pop up into his brain, his imagination going into overdrive as he dreaded what could be happening to his brother right now. He forces his fingers to go deeper in, realizing but not caring at all when he feels something wet in result. ~~How can some petty red liquid worry him when his brother is being tortured in a hundred different methods only a wall away?~~

Long afterwards, he notices the floorboards shake and groan as his mother stomps toward her room ~~still yelling like the madwoman she is~~ , the sound a door slamming shut punctuating the cacophony. He lingers for a couple of frenzied heartbeats to make sure she is not going to come out, a soundless prayer forming on his lips. Once he is completely certain that the coast is clear, he silently sprints to his brother’s room and pushes the door open millimeter by millimeter. ~~Any faster and the creaks will bring his mother running with a whip.~~ The sight that greets him causes tears to pool up in his eyes and flood down in reckless abandon. He knows that he should be strong, ~~at least in front of his brother~~ , but how can he when he sees his brother all tied up to his desk chair, looking so helpless and unholy and dead inside?

He can’t even bring himself to look at him for more than a painful second. There’s so much red and purple blotching up his skin that he forgets what his natural complexion looks like, though it might be because of the salty water blinding his eyes as they refuse to stop gushing out. He rushes forward and frees his brother from his shackles, hugging his frail form and feeling their blood and tears soil their clothes. He is suddenly aware of a swooping sensation in his stomach, and he wrenches away from his trembling brother and dry heaves on the floor. He is slightly comforted that his brother does not have to clean up his room later (since their mother never makes him do any work, rather making his twin do _everything_ ). ~~He cannot even remember the last time they had eaten.~~

He can’t take care of both himself and his brother like this, not when every day is an action-packed horror movie and each night is spent like sheep trapped in a wolf’s den. He knows there is nothing he could do besides beseech God’s help.

He goes to church on Sunday, even though it was slow torture to wait so many days for this opportunity for visitation to come. He and and his brother cry in earnest as the minister prays, staying long after he finished. So engrossed in his plea, he doesn’t notice the small blonde woman coming to join him even as she kneels down next to him with her blue-haired companion. If God has any mercy for him, he would pray his heart out until he could get it, be it within this church or in the other end of the earth.

What he doesn’t know is that he does not have to look very far to have his prayers answered.

 

* * *

 

You’re having another really good day. In fact, this may be the best one to date. You don’t remember a time where you were happier than this, grinning and laughing like you never knew pain. In fact, you have forgotten what it feels like to be sad, which may have seemed like a small miracle eleven days ago.

How can you even think about anything remotely negative with his face so close to yours, the yellow eyes you have come to know so well shining in mirth behind striped glasses and the mouth that once told you to leave him alone now grinning in glee? You didn’t think you would get to see him so blissful, so content. Your new friends, the people you have gotten to know over the past couple of days, surround you in their crisp and smart clothes. Everyone has a smile on his or her face, those you have talked to just once and those you have not stopped talking to even once.

You can’t believe you managed to put together the long-awaited party in such a short time. Actually, you think to yourself, you _can_. If it wasn’t for your six fellow members of the organization and your closest confidantes, you honestly think you would not be here. Not in this party, not above the ground, even. You greet your guests courteously as they enter the hall. You laugh at your blond friend as he attempts to fix his tie, trying and failing miserably. You marvel at the fact that you get to wear a dress without anyone trying to destroy it. And mostly, your brain can’t process how you found the most wonderful person you ever had the pleasure to meet, the crimson-haired blessing who is standing by your side. You hook your finger around his, giggling when you see his face coloring to match his disheveled locks. When you feel his bigger hand engulfing yours, you start to feel your cheeks coming to match his.

As the party went on, you pull him outside for some fresh air. You think that he needs it more than you, having had spent most of his time either pranking the party guests with you in tow, or running around the perimeter in search of their friend’s beloved white cat that was hiding somewhere from him.

You perch on the hood of his sleek car next to him, staring at the swirls of stars in the night sky. Your hand is still intertwined in his, and you turn you head around to meet his eyes. You are instantly captivated by the bright mikado yellow orbs, seeing how they twinkle when they meet yours. You reach out and brush away the red strands falling into them, and don’t stop stroking his forehead. ~~It doesn't feel awkward at all.~~

  

* * *

 

“You know I love you, right?”

“I remember.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Note: I apologize for making the ending so short. I had to rush it since I was sneakily doing this while I was supposed to do homework. S a v e m e (´・＿・`)


End file.
